Hope
by Helxine
Summary: A story about Beatrix's and Steiner's brief love.


* I do not own any of these characters*  
  
Hope  
  
She stared at the dancing orange flames as it caressed her fingers with heat and remembered. The small warmth of the dying flame gave no comfort against the cold of the night and the cold that ranged in her heart of stone.  
  
She caught the hot, melting wax on her callused fingers as darkness and black agony continued its pursuit to bleed her soul.  
  
He lay beside her, safe in the comfort of the warm, woolen blanket that wove sweet, undisturbing dreams.  
  
She lifted her hand away from the waning flame and hugged her sore, naked, slender frame, remembering last night's pleasures.  
  
She yearned for his mouth upon hers, how each touch, each caress made her feel...so alive. (As if the monster within her no longer existed.)  
  
She watched him, tracing a finger from those lips down his bronze, flat stomach.  
  
How they claimed each other's bodies in a vortex of confusion, igniting a passion she had never known. How in that special moment, he entered her and filled every screaming need within.  
  
She kissed his cheek lightly now and painfully closed her eyes. It was the lightest touch she had ever bestowed on him.  
  
Her hand placed a stray strand of hair behind one ear. The same hand that wielded the sword 'Save The Queen', the same hand that held the blade that was stained with innocent blood.  
  
She withdrew her hand instantly, remembering the misery that she had caused. The faces of the dead continued to haunt her not merely in nightmares, their ghosts followed her every waking moment. She remembered her stained hands, the color of dark crimson. It was the color of death. The blood would never wash away.  
  
Empty. That was the word to describe what she felt. Barren and hollow. No guilt, no remorse no more thirst for blood. Maybe she was an unemotional puppet after all. Played by the hands of greater gods.  
  
'Beatrix...'Steiner whispered, lifting a hand to catch the single teardrop that coursed down one unscarred eye.  
  
She looked at him, concealing the anguish that twisted inside her soul while her cold, unemotional eyes gave forth nothing.  
  
Afraid. Yes she was afraid. She who brought down entire cities, defeated entire armies.  
  
The unfeeling inhuman monster with no conscience...a warrior who lived by her duty, her blade to the queen was afraid.  
  
She started to back away when his embrace suddenly possessed her, bringing unwelcome warmth. His arms wrapped around her body as his lips claimed hers in a glorious rush of passion.  
  
If only those lips, those arms did not want her to crave another. If only he could not melt her heart of ice with relentless emotions. If only she could raise her sword against his throat and be repulsed by him.  
  
If only...he could not stir alive the lost ashes of dead hope within her dead heart.  
  
His mouth, his touch was hot against her skin. She loved how his hands roamed and explored her body, making her forget the blood that stained her hands.  
  
('I didn't mean to slaughter...for the sake of the queen...' Beatrix sobbed in his arms last night. 'Shh...just let the tears flow love.' He soothe, giving her the comfort that she long ago craved.)  
  
(I didn't mean to slaughter...)  
  
(Lair, lair. You loved the bloodlust.)  
  
Her palms were pressed against his chest and she pushed. She did not deserve to be with him, so she forbade touch.  
  
She pushed him away from her skin, away from love, away from life. (...and extinguished the hope within.)  
  
He searched her face for that trace of desire, that trace for chance; that trace of love. They were all there, Steiner knew, carefully hidden beneath the facade of a mask and he wanted her. He wanted to claim her back. He wanted to show her so many things.  
  
She had to leave, there was no place for love in her heart. Not anymore.  
  
Better it was to leave him now and spare him pain, take different paths and maybe one day he would find someone else.  
  
The thought distressed her but the emotions were carefully concealed in her composed mask.  
  
Maybe she was truly a coward, to face him, to face the truth that there might actually be chance...  
  
No, she should stop thinking such foolish thoughts.  
  
She avoided the dread and anguish in his eyes as she picked up her discarded clothing, as the armor covered her, covered her until she was no longer bared for the hungry world to see. She held onto the sword, Save The Queen tightly.  
  
'Goodbye Steiner, I hope we don't ever meet again,' She said in her toneless voice, hiding the throbbing pain that threatened to swallow her whole and break her cold composure.  
  
He stared at her, voice frozen with so many conflicting emotions. He watched her turn away as tears begin to dance down those sculpted cheekbones. Not wanting him to see that she was still capable of human fragility.  
  
He heard the harsh click of her boots as her silver form flittered away when he found his voice.  
  
'Beatrix!' He shouted but it was too late.  
  
He lingered in her scent, clutching the woolen blanket as if it was salvation. He would exchange all the chaos in the world for their love.  
  
Despite the sorrow in his heart and all the confusion in the world, lingering hope remained. 


End file.
